Sleeper
by TheConspiracyTheory
Summary: LVHP, wherein Voldemort placed a spell on Harry as a baby that would lead him to be the perfect Golden Boy, until Voldemort decided otherwise. That spell left a scar, but did not leave Voldemort dead. Dark!Harry 'Full' summary inside.
1. Prologue

_**I will only say this once, as it becomes redundant saying it every chapter.**_

_**Disclaimer: This is purely fanfiction, (NO WAY! It's on fanfiction . net) I do not own Harry Potter (If I did I wouldn't be writing this) and in general disclaimers are stooopid, why do I bother?**_

_**Warnings: Uh.. you clicked the link, so yes beware of slash (including mature content, pervs.), mentions of child abuse (almost every hp fic does that, so you should be aware by now~), torture. This fic will be sporadically updated like everything else I do with my life. Oh I don't know, read at your own discretion okay? Any flames that go on about and not limited to the fact that I haven't warned you about this or I haven't disclaimed or my fic is shit, or I have serious issues or whatever, I don't care it will be used to roast marshmallows and haters will always hate, so go away. Any flames against other reviewers will see you reported you have been warned, it's not my fault you didn't read the not so fine fine print (This has happened, I don't know why people like you even bother, trolls). On that note, will you be so nice to drop a review, that is if you've read the not so fine fine print? **_

_**There is quite a bit of recap of the books, but I try to fast forward through them, it's boring for me to write, but there are bits and pieces that are inserted. Nice short Prologue to get the stupid plot bunny out of my house.**_

_**Okay enough of my sarcasm… enjoy**_

_**CT **_

**Summary:** He was a master manipulator, each moment, action preplanned, everything was a façade, a mirror image, that would lead to one thing. His endgame. HPLV, wherein Voldemort placed a spell on Harry as a baby that would lead him to be the perfect Golden Boy, until Voldemort decided otherwise. That spell left a scar, but did not leave Voldemort dead. Dark!Harry, Mild(dare I say?)Light-bashing. Not AU Creature fic

**Prologue**

A soft chime echoed in the hallway. A tinkling came from a room. Flawlessly he crept down the corridor. Ignoring the room with the tinkling, he opted for the adjacent room. A silent spell sent the door swinging open gently. From his position at the doorway, he could see two figures in the king-sized bed, shadowed by the new moon. Pausing for not another second, he stepped forward, silent and graceful like a feline, and withdrew his wand and cast two bright green spells in succession. Then he levitated the bodies, the male to the storey below and the female with him to the room with the tinkling.

Cancelling the levitation spell carelessly, he moved to the crib that stood in the centre of the room. Wordlessly he stopped the mobile hanging above from spinning and gently pulled back blanket slightly to reveal a soundly sleeping baby.

"Hello, precious, wake up," the man said, his voice running like silk.

Bright, illuminating green eyes blinked open.

"Twaa," gurgled the child, smiling.

"I'm sorry Harry, one day this will all be a bad dream," said the man reaching out to smooth back the infant's hair before raising his wand and muttering in Latin before a jet of pale blue dispersed and covered the child.

"We'll be together before you realise it," said the man more to himself as he stroke the boy's cheek as the blue light settled and began to fade.

Spinning around he poured a pile of ashes onto the floor and transfigured a robe he nabbed from the parents room into clothes more suitable for himself and arranging it about the ash. Spinning around he stepped over the dead woman's body carelessly and made sure to kick the man before leaving the house. He stopped for one last time on the lawn and murmured _Mosmorde _before he headed of for a long deserved vacation.


	2. Chapter 1

_******Synopsis**: He was a master manipulator, each moment, action preplanned, everything was a façade, a mirror image, that would lead to one thing. His endgame. HPLV, wherein Voldemort placed a spell on Harry as a baby that would lead him to be the perfect Golden Boy, until Voldemort decided otherwise. That spell left a scar, but did not leave Voldemort dead. Dark!Harry, Mild(dare I say?)Light-bashing. Not AU_

**Chapter 1**

"GET UP BOY!" shouted Vernon as he rapped against the cupboard-under-the-stairs door.

"IF YOU DON'T COME OUT THIS INSTANT I WILL—"

Whatever Vernon was going to do Harry never found out as Dudley began whining incessantly that he was hungry. Groaning Harry fumbled for his glasses and dressed himself in his cousin's hand me downs before exiting the cupboard and walking into the kitchen blearily. Here he was greeted by his Aunt's horse like face.

"Watch the eggs, don't let them burn for Duddykins," she said bustling off.

Barely at the height to hold a spatula safely and flip the eggs, Harry complied and continued cooking the eggs.

"I WANT BACON TOO!" screamed Dudley.

"MAKE BACON TOO BOY!" yelled Vernon just as loud.

Juggling the eggs and reaching for the bacon behind him in the fridge, Harry clumsily fumbled as he prepared breakfast for his last living relatives. Sighing softly he knew it was going to be another long day.

* * *

True to his predictions it had been a long day. After being screamed at by Vernon and Dudley for a good half hour, his Aunt turned to him and told him to go work in the backyard. God prevent the neighbours from seeing a freak such as him, as his Aunt would say. Later he was confined to his room until dinner where as usual he was given the smallest proportions and the worst parts, like burnt bits. Retiring to his room after dinner Harry stared into the dark ceiling.

If he stared long enough he could pretend he was someone cool, someone special, not some freak mistreated by his relatives. Raising a hand to his forehead he touched the bumpy surface. It was the only reminder of his parents, who died in a car crash according to his Aunt. But Harry had small glimpses and memories of that night and from what he saw there was flashing green light and screaming. Whenever he asked he got yelled at.

Sighing again he closed his eyes for an early night.

* * *

It was almost ten years since Voldemort started his nice vacation. The general public as well as his enemy and most of his servants thought him to be a megalomaniac of a Dark Lord who lost his mind to power. But that held little truth, rather Voldemort was an actor, he played a role to suit his purposes. So when people called him insane, it was the farthest from the truth.

As a child prodigy, his mind worked very different from other people. The way he saw connections, openings, chances was far faster. So after 'hearing' the prophecy and attempting to 'kill' the prophecy child and 'dying', Voldemort retired to his recently purchase property in wizarding Tuscany.

Day by day he strolled around wasting time, planning, thinking, plotting. There was nothing more to do at this stage as he pretended he was dead, but in due time he would achieve everything he was born to. With time.

* * *

"WHAT'S THIS?" screamed Vernon. He was always screaming.

Harry looked up from his meagre breakfast. Today his Aunt had left early with Dudley to go to his orientation day for Smeltings. Vernon had work in an hour or so.

"W-what?" Harry stuttered.

"WHAT IS THIS ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME, THERE ARE EGGSHELLS IN THE EGGS," Vernon shouted.

"I'm sorry," said Harry timidly.

"Oh you will be," said Vernon, turning an uglier shade of purple that he was already was.

Then without a warning he backhanded Harry. Pausing to only breath heavily he yanked to boy from the floor on which he had fallen and punched him heavily in the stomach.

"YOU ARE A FREAK, DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT? IF IT WEREN'T FOR PETUNIA INSISTING YOU'D BE IN AN ORPHANAGE," bellowed Vernon.

"An orphanage would be better than this place," said Harry back clutching his stomach.

"YOU DARE TALK BACK?"

Backhanding him again across the other cheek, Vernon dropped his nephew to the ground and kicked him with his indoor slippers.

Whimpering Harry curled up into a ball, trying to shield his head with his thin arms. He felt unbelievable pain in his ribs, back, cheeks, everywhere. He just wanted it to stop, if only it could stop, if only someone could help.

_Help._

* * *

He was suddenly jerked awake by a scream in his head. Looking over to the grandfather clock it read barely 9 o'clock. It was a Monday and Mondays were for sleeping in, but for today he had some bigger matters to deal with.

Sitting up he delved into his own mind and reached out to the link. It was a special bond between him and his favourite green eyed person. Usually he felt melancholy and injustice from the link, but today it was more. So pouring more magic through, Voldemort pushed himself into Harry's mind and immediately saw what was wrong. The poor child was being used like a punching bag.

Making no contemplation whatsoever Voldemort whispered to Harry through their link.

"There are three snakes in a row, the second one is a ashwinder."

Then he drew back and watched as Harry suddenly stilled and quietened, which also stopped his abuser for a brief second but Voldemort knew that it was enough. Intoxicating magic burst out from the boy, smashing against the large man, pushing him over the dining table and into the wall. Standing up fluidly, the boy drifted over to the man and his magic belted out with no mercy.

Eyes hardened and jaw set firm, he spoke with a cadence that didn't fall in line with his age.

"If you every lay a hand on me again I will not hesitate to kill you," he all but growled, magic furling around him.

Voldemort saw this as a good time to intervene before anything more happened. Slipping effortlessly into the boy's mind he whispered, "There are three snakes in a row, the third one was a runespoor."

He watched as the boy's demeanour change back to the trembling child and he clambered unsteadily to his cupboard and crawled onto his lumpy bed. Hugging his knees he rocked back and forth until the tears stopped flowing or rather Voldemort compelled his mind to sleep. He watched as the child closed his eyes before returning to his own mind.

Lying back, the ramifications of his actions suddenly hit him. For the first time Voldemort realised, he had acted without thinking. His anger began to spike. For the first time he acted without rationale, preparation. He had gone on his impulse.

To a degree it unnerved him and dare he say instilled uncertainty and a slight trepidation? But he knew, he knew that there was more at play than himself, these were his baser instincts, so steeling himself he accepted the fact that the green eyed boy would not allow him to be rational. Running a hand through his head, he grabbed for his blankets and threw them over his head for another three hours or so of beauty sleep.

* * *

In his younger years, after the rejection to his desire to teach at Hogwarts, Voldemort sought to travel the world in order to broaden his horizons and run _small_ errands along the way. During his time at Hogwarts, he knew that Dumbledore watched over him like a hawk, so he set up an elaborate plan to would end with the Light side chasing their tail for the better decades to come. It came in one word, plural.

Horcruxes.

With no true desire to ever create one, especially with his immortality guaranteed, the unknown term that had come up in his readings became the perfect red herring. A conversation with Professor Slughorn and a few discreet acts, not limited to killing his worthless muggle family, Voldemort had planted the seeds, and with time and contemplation they would grow. His little excursions along the way of his travels led to some Horcrux object hunting and Horcrux hiding. A final trip to Albania signified his return to Hogwarts where Dumbledore now replaced the retired Dippet. He took a short detour past the Barnabas the Barmy tapestry on the seventh floor, before entering Dumbledore's office. He knew he would never get the job, but his objective was complete. So walking dejectedly away from Hogwarts to where the apparition barriers, he mentally bid farewell to the only place to date he truly would call home.

He wouldn't be back at least not for a long time, but he felt the air shift and Hogwarts seemed to envelope him into a hug as if telling the heir of a Founder to return soon. Shaking his head in amusement, he apparated to Malfoy Manor. Greeted by Abraxas, Voldemort was shown inside, where he summoned his supporters from school. A new dawn would come and everyone would know the name Lord Voldemort.

* * *

After the incident with Vernon, the man seem to be more subdued around Harry. He had left for work after regaining his senses. Coming home that day from the orientation day at Smeltings, Petunia had rapped on his door, calling him out for dinner, but after he remained silent she left him. It was one less person to cook for.

It was Dudley's birthday when they went to the zoo, here Harry had encountered a snake, talked to it, made glass disappear and reappear with Dudley as the new exhibit. Overall it was a lovely day for Harry until he got yelled at and thrown into the cupboard. He went to bed that night knowing that if there was anything different about him he could talk to snakes, and he cherished that ability, that he wasn't like the Dursleys or the kids at school.

The rest of the weeks prior to the arrival to a special letter was spent in tense silence. The day that the letter did arrive, the household broke out in shouts and protests. A mysterious letter for Harry Potter, the boy that no one liked, the boy that never got mail. For a good week the letters continued to come. Vernon began to employ extreme tactics, but somehow the letters just kept coming. Until he finally cracked and sent the whole family away from No. 4 Privet Drive.

It was the day of his birthday when Harry was lying on the cold, hard filthy floor when he blew out his dirt candles that there was a loud boom. Louder than the thunder and the wind threatening to blow down the shack. Again it sounded. Vernon and Petunia came fumbling down the stairs, Vernon with rifle in hand.

Boom again and the door fell. Everyone was awake now. Harry scrambled up in time to see a huge man standing at the doorway. It turned out the man was Hagrid, from the mysterious place his letters were sent from. After terrorising the Dursley's a bit, angry at their Mugglish ways and keeping information from Harry, he launched into an explanation on everything Harry didn't know. A few more shocks and disbeliefs later, including giving Dudley a pig-tail, the two left the Dursleys behind.

Having finally read his letter, Harry awoke feeling like a different person. He had discovered that he was special, he was more than a simple child for the Dursleys to throw around, but the next day, his trip to wizarding London, left him wishing that he wasn't so special. He and Hagrid stood out like a sore thumb as they walked down muggle London, to the Leaky Cauldron. Here he was greeted by milling fan. Dragging Harry away from the crowd, Hagrid led him down Diagon Alley to Gringotts, wizarding bank.

Here Harry was greeted by the most obscure creatures he had ever seen. Goblins. Prior to collecting money from his vault and Hagrid's package, one of the goblins, Griphook asked him to come with him for some private inquiry. Having no choice but to oblige Hagrid sat down, Dumbledore had warned him that the goblins would ask for more proof than a key, so Harry walked nervously with a little man to a small private room inside the bank.

"I will need a sample of your blood," said Griphook, and none to bluntly, pricked Harry's finger and gathering up the drop of blood that welled there onto a piece of parchment.

"Wait here," said Griphook, leaving.

Sitting down on one of the chairs present in the room, Harry stuck his finger in his mouth and looked around, there was nothing remarkable about the place at all. Bored he stared at his hands, tracing the lines on his palm. It still felt so surreal. He was a wizard, and he had defeated the Dark Lord when he was just a child. Suddenly he heard footsteps. Perhaps Griphook was returning. Turning around though he was greeted with the sight of a man, before he could react however, the man spoke.

"There are three snakes in a row, the second one is a ashwinder."

Harry stilled and faced the man at the door, "Hello, have we met before," he said, scrunching up his face, "I swear we have."

"We may have, Harry, we may have," said the man striding gracefully into the room.

"You know my name. Who are you then?" inquired Harry, tilting his head.

"I am Lord Voldemort," said the man without a single pause.

"But, hey wait, aren't you the bad guy everyone is saying that I killed, I mean you're dead," said Harry, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Indeed. It's all part of an elaborate plan. When I marked you with that scar, I did not die. I never died. I faked my death as I one day too will fake my revival. You my dearest play a very important role in this game, but you are not ready to be a part of yet, but I want you to be aware because soon you will be and also I wish to complete the first part of our bond," said Voldemort smoothly, "You are not who you think you are, you have been lied to for years, everything you know is not the truth. In fact no one knows the exact truth of what happened and why I marked you. Do not fret, you will find out soon. But I wish to ask you, do you trust me?"

"Do I trust you? Yeah, for some reason yeah, I do," half-whispered Harry.

"Very well, give me your hands," Voldemort said, reaching for Harry's hands, "Stand up."

Together they stood in the centre of the room. Harry's hands placed within Voldemort's larger ones. Then the Dark Lord began to mutter in Latin. After a couple of minutes or so a pale orange light settled over then.

"Open your mind, let me in," whispered Voldemort, leaning down, pressing his forehead to the boy. Gently he slipped into his mind. There was a difference when he was Harry and when he was _Harry. _Like now, his mind was more complex more waves and his magical core was different as well. Voldemort had anticipated all these things, but only contact and trust had allowed him the first delve into _Harry's _mind. Settling into a corner, Voldemort left a small part of his conscious there before slipping out. Now if he so wished he could be like a spectator in the boy's mind. Would that not become useful in his years to come?

"You will understand everything soon Harry," said Voldemort leaning away and placing a soft kiss on the Harry's forehead, lingering for maybe a bit too long. Leaning back entirely he spoke again, almost unwillingly, "There are three snakes in a row, the third one is a runespoor."

Voldemort was out the door before Harry even realised he had a visitor.

* * *

By the time Griphook returned, Harry was still sitting restlessly.

"All is in order, we will meet the half-giant at the entrance to the vaults," said Griphook, beckoning Harry to follow his stubby strides.

The rest of the day after Harry collected his gold and Hagrid his package was spent buying various items required for first years. He also had a short encounter with a blond boy also starting Hogwarts at Madam Malkin's before finally heading off to purchase a wand. After an inordinate amount of wands, finally one felt right. It was a warm, tingling feeling, that seemed to rush up his arm, leaving behind the good kind of goose bumps. Hagrid had also purchased him a snowy owl, which he named Hedwig.

The rest of the summer Harry spent reading his new texts when Aunt Petunia wasn't bothering him to do chores. Vernon still kept a good distance from the boy. When Harry asked for a lift to Kings Cross, he scoffed at the platform number before complying, but not without a vicious glint in his eyes. Upon arrival at Kings Cross on the first of September, Vernon left Harry, where he now was pushing his trunk and Hedwig in her cage down Platform 9¾. After being laughed at by the station manager for asking where the platform was, Harry spotted a bunch of red heads talking about Muggles. Seizing the change he wheeled his trolley towards them following a bustling woman and a trail of children to a brick column. A few more nerves and reassurances later, Harry set eyes of the magnificent steam train and made friends with one Ron Weasley.

Filled with more sweets than he had ever had in his entire life, Harry and Ron changed into their robes as the Hogwarts Express neared the castle. Grinning as he saw Hagrid, they boarded the boats that took them to the school. Entranced by the stunning castle, Harry realised this was the place he was going to call home for the next seven years of his life. Upon arrival at the castle, they were greeted by a stern witch by the name of Professor McGonagall, who explained they would be sorted into their houses; Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin.

Perhaps the most nerve wracking moment of today for Harry and many other first years was when he stumbled up to the stool and placed on the Sorting Hat. All he knew was he did not want to be sorted into Slytherin. So when the hat shouted Gryffindor, he was relieved as he joined the House of Lions, although he did not forget that the Hat insinuated that he would also do well in Slytherin. The rest of the night passed as a blur and as he prepared for bed that night, he sat down with Hedwig and in his heart he somehow knew he found a place he could belong.

Somewhere that felt like home.

* * *

_Don't like ANs, but this was a really dry chapter to write, as you can see I really just glossed over, hope it kicks off from this... hope it makes sense too (the chapter), it's a bit confusing, but all will be answered :)_

_QUESTION TIME: Where did I get my inspiration for Harry to be a sleeper 'agent' from? Clue: Note the trigger phrase. It's a TV show._

___._.' Bye, CT_


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